


A new beginning

by Nix_X



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:18:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nix_X/pseuds/Nix_X
Summary: Tyrion and Sansa talk on the eve of Daenarys's coronation





	A new beginning

Tyrion sat staring at the shimmering waters of the lake, mentally reviewing the last five years. King’s landing. He hadn’t thought that he would ever return to this place the day Varys had smuggled him on to that ship. And yet here he was, on the eve of Daenarys Targaeryan’s coronation, wandering about in the gardens which had been built for Cersei, drinking himself into a stupor.

Myrcella had loved this place, he thought bitterly. Especially now when the moonlight caught the waters just so, sending them dancing and sparkling. He could hear the sounds of people celebrating, rejoicing that the war had finally ended, the sounds of drinking and dancing with the occasional firework lighting up the sky. Myrcella would have loved that too, he thought wistfully.

But Myrcella was dead. So was sweet little Tommen, his innocent little nephew he had piggybacked across this very garden while Jamie chased after them and Myrcella clapped her hands in delight. The end the Lannister line he thought, letting out a mirthless laugh. Brought down by their own sons. Sure, it might have crossed his father’s mind once or twice that Tyrion would end up stabbing him in the back but he was fairly certain that never in a thousand years would it have occurred to either of them that Jaime would end up betraying the family. And how.

That bloated purple face, foam dribbling out of what had been once called the most enchanting mouth in Westeros, the bulging eyes-

Tyrion stood up gasping for breath as he dry heaved into the grass, trying with all his might to banish the images of his sister’s dead body. He hadn’t loved her but even so-even so…he found himself emptying his dinner into the grass, retching uncontrollably.

A soft hand was rubbing his back while its pair was holding onto his arm. He could hear soft, worried whisperings but at the moment he didn’t care- all he wanted was to rid his mind of the memories it refused to forget.

He finally collapsed a few feet away from the puddle of vomit, exhausted but thankfully too tired to think. ”Thank you” he murmured to the woman who had cautiously lowered herself beside him.

“Think nothing of it my lord” Sansa replied, her forehead still creased with worry. “Should I send for the maester?”

Tyrion gave a rueful chuckle. “Unless he knows how to wipe someone’s memory, I don’t think he will be of much use to me. This-“he lifted his glass of wine “serves me much better”.

She said nothing. For some reason, her silence annoyed him.

“Why is the Lady of Winterfell wandering about alone in the gardens anyway? Are all of her guards lazy fucks or has the last few years inspired in her a desire to court danger?”

He knew he was being a prick but he couldn’t help himself. To have been found like this by her of all people filled him with a burning shame. It seems he was destined to keep getting humiliated in front of Sansa Stark.

“I have but one knight and the Lady Brienne is currently…otherwise engaged”. Her cheeks turned a delicate pink. Tyrion raised an eyebrow making her blush even harder before saying reluctantly “I believe she is with your brother right now”.

Ah. Consciously ignoring the distracting blush Tyrion pondered the mystery that was Jaime’s relationship with the Maid of Tarth. Jaime avoided talking about her but the only time the haunted expression left his eyes was when they fell on her. Tyrion might not understand it but he was glad that Jaime at least had that-someone to help him forget.

“And while the last few years have not inspired me to seek danger my lord, they have at the very least made me capable enough to protect myself”.

Her voice was bleak. Recalling all that Sansa had endured at King’s landing and what Jon had let slip about her life after it, Tyrion closed his eyes in shame and momentarily wished that the wine was laced with poison. Something of the Olenna Tyrell variety.

“Apologies my lady” he said sincerely. “That was uncalled for”

She nodded, the bleak look not leaving her face. Looking at her Tyrion was reminded again that he and his family weren’t the only ones who had suffered during this game of thrones.

“I thought you had forgotten me” she said suddenly.

He frowned in confusion. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, looking suspiciously at the glass of wine.

She met his eyes squarely. “You have been extremely formal with me my lord, ever since I arrived. I had begun to think that you had forgotten everything about me except my name.”

Tyrion smiled grimly. “I assure you my lady, I don’t forget the women I wed. It is true that I have been avoiding you however, that was intentional”

“Because you dislike me “she said flatly as he paused to take another gulp of his wine.

He choked at that. Spluttering he attempted to regain control of his breathing before trying to make sense of what she had just said.

“Dislike you?” he asked incredulously. “Why would I dislike you Lady Sansa?”

She coloured. “Because I left you” she said quietly. “After- Joffrey’s death. I left you to face the music alone”

“And I’m very glad you did” he said bluntly. “One of the few things I’m grateful to the Seven for. If you had stayed you would almost certainly have died. Or worse””

Looking at her stern face he said again gently “Sansa, you had no obligation to stay. Our marriage was a travesty, a sham that should never have been forced on you”.

“It was better than my second one at least” she said bitterly.

Tyrion remained silent, willing the rage that was bubbling up inside him to go away. He had heard a little of what Ramsey Bolton had done to Sansa, sweet, gentle, Sansa and he was almost sorry the bastard was dead. It would have given Tyrion immense pleasure to spit roast the man alive.

“He raped me” she said abruptly. “He held me down and pushed into me again and again until I was screaming with pain and he made his…pet watch. He tortured me alive, tore me apart and he did it all in front of another man. And he _enjoyed_ it”. She let out a strangled sob.

Tyrion had thought that he would never again feel the same horror and rage that he had felt when he found Shae in his father’s bed. But this-this feeling that was consuming him, it was a thousand times worse. It wasn’t grief alone, it wasn’t anger, it was an all-consuming, vicious _something_ that made him want to dig up the Bolton bastard’s remains and drag it to the Red Priestess to bring back to life, just so that he could make him suffer every possible hell he could think of before killing him again.

“I wish I’d been there for you” he said, the words coming out as a snarl. He tried to gentle his tone when he saw her tense. “I’m no knight in shining armour but I swear to you, I would have died before he laid one finger on you”.

“I know” she said, the certainty in her voice surprising him. “I’m afraid I have to disagree with you about the knight part though”

He chuckled at that. “You jest my lady. I’m a _dwarf_ ”.

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow. ”I fail to see how that is relevant my lord” she said coolly.

He stared at her, bewildered. This wasn’t how he had imagined this conversation going.“The Sansa I knew had rather different ideas about what constituted a knight” he said slowly.

“The Sansa you knew doesn’t exist anymore my lord”. Her voice sounded forlorn and it did …things to his heart.

“You are wrong” he said carefully, holding her eyes as she turned to look at him in surprise. “I must admit when you first arrived I did believe that Sansa Stark had been erased by the Lady of Winterfell”.

“Hasn’t she?” The desolate note in her voice had grown stronger.

“No” Tyrion replied firmly. “The world might see the Lady of Winterfell during the day but here, right now, I see a woman who is at least in part the fourteen year old girl I knew”

She was silent for a few moments and then said with a soft smile “Perhaps because she feels safe enough with you to be that girl again”.

He gave an answering smile. “See? She is still just as stupid as fourteen year old Sansa Stark”. He ducked to avoid the clod of earth sailing towards him before coming up chuckling.

“My lady I am much too old to indulge in mud fights. There is also the distinct possibility that your bannermen might have me killed if I end up spraying their lady with mud”.

She wrinkled her nose, her eyes dancing. “They are tiresome, aren’t they? Except for Lady Mormont. She is both terrifying and adorable”.Thinking of the ten year old Lady Mormont, Tyrion was inclined to agree. The meeting with Lyanna Mormont had been the closest Tyrion had seen Daenarys to look speechless.

“They are now advising me to get married” Sansa said in a voice that strived to be casual. Ignoring the twinge in his chest Tyrion shifted his position so that he was lying on the grass.

“A wise idea” he said, “The Lady of Winterfell’s position would be more secure with a good marriage”

“You wouldn’t mind then” Sansa said in a colourless voice.He nearly laughed at that. What right did he have to mind? He told her as much.

“Some would say as my husband you had every right to mind” she said icily.

“Our marriage no longer stands” he replied, puzzled at the direction the conversation was taking. “I think everyone in the seven kingdoms knows by now that it was a sham marriage”

“It needn’t be”. There was definitely a tremor in her voice now. “We could- we could remarry. Or rather put it about that it was c-consummated making my marriage to Ramsey Bolton invalid. Or something”

Tyrion was baffled. He had gone to such great lengths to not impose his company on her after she had arrived in King’s landing and here she was demanding they remarry. Was this out of some twisted sense of duty or guilt?

“Sansa you don’t have to-“

“I know I don’t have to!” she snapped. “Is it so inconceivable that I want to?!”

He stared at her, completely at sea. “Why?” he asked feebly.

“You make me feel warm” she said simply. He blinked. “Warm?”

She nodded. “I’m cold all the time” she said wearily. “Always, always cold- this bone deep, dull cold. But when I’m with you…the cold-it goes away”.

She went quiet again, leaving him to mull over her words.

“I dream you know” she said abruptly. “I dream at night of the white walkers and Ramsey and Petyr Baelish and Joffrey. They are all dead but they still won’t let me go”

He could only look at her, his heart aching.

“Then you swoop in and send them away” she smiled at the befuddled look on his face. “I charge in with a battleaxe and send them away?” he asked sceptically. She gurgled.

“I’m afraid not my lord” she replied with a mischievous grin. “You tend to disperse them with insults. As I recall in one particular dream you made fun of the Night king’s fashion choices. And in another you sent Joffrey crying because you insulted the size of his cock”.

Tyrion huffed a laugh. “Even in your dreams I remain a nasty little Imp” he said with a mock glare. She frowned at that.

“My lord I don’t think you see yourself very clearly” she said calmly. “The Queen would have hardly appointed an Imp as her Hand would she?”

She was defending him, he thought with a glow of pleasure. His wife-not wife-wife? was defending him.

“I must go” she said hurriedly making him sit up. “Jon and Arya will be looking for me”. She gave him a furtive glance but his face remained neutral causing the light in her eyes to dim.Standing up she shook out her skirts and turned to leave when she heard him.

“Lady Sansa, would you join me in breaking my fast tomorrow?”

She looked down at him, the smile blooming on her face answer enough.


End file.
